


The Black Sunglasses

by sleepymarvel



Category: Seinfeld
Genre: Gen, Mild descriptions of violence, Narcissism, Shenanigans, lifeguard chairs, typical seinfeld banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29743911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepymarvel/pseuds/sleepymarvel
Summary: Jerry has an idea for a new comedy bit. Elaine has a confrontation with an ex boyfriend. Kramer gets a Penthouse Forum. And what's the deal with those big red lifeguard chairs anyway?Reupload
Relationships: George Costanza & Jerry Seinfeld
Kudos: 1





	The Black Sunglasses

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! reupload due to my account being hacked and this fic being deleted. enjoy!

“I’ve  always  thought that about lifeguards you know.” George said, matter-of-factly, between bites of his sandwich.

Jerry was telling him the beginning of a particularly funny stand up bit and drinking his third consecutive cup of coffee. They’d been in the coffee shop for almost two hours, but to George it only felt like a couple of minutes, and because he didn’t have a job and didn’t have a girlfriend he was particularly invested in the lifeguards in Jerry’s joke.

Monk’s diner bustled with business around them. Sometimes it felt like all of George’s good memories were in the coffee shop, sitting across from Jerry, talking trivial about things like lifeguards. Was that sad or profound? George figured it didn’t matter either way.

“Really?” Jerry asked disbelievingly, edging on laughter, “You’ve really thought about  _that_?”

And of course, George really had thought about  _that_. Who hadn’t thought about  _that_? It was one of the biggest societal issues with the beach. Why did lifeguards get those big red chairs? What made them so special? It’s outrageous!

“Of course!” George exclaimed, throwing his hands up for effect, “What do you think I’m some kind of animal? I go to the beach and I’m not even aware of that giant red clown chair and the ramifications of it? I promise you, Jerry. I’ve noticed.”

“And I’m assuming, if not for the social contract you enter when you step onto a beach, you would confront the lifeguard. You’d tell him to share the chair.”

“Sure I would.” George said, “What kind of lifeguard are you if you don’t share the chair? A selfish one. I’m telling you Jerry, and use this for your bit, lifeguards only care about looking like they’re some kind of Messiah on their throne.” George’s voice raised to imitate the pitch of someone awe-struck, “Oh look, there’s the lifeguard! Look how big his chair is! He’s so much better than us dirty sand sitters!”

“It’s not right.” Jerry agreed. His coffee was gone now and he was thinking about getting another one. Four coffees in one sitting wasn’t bad right? Kramer told him once that he’d survived on only coffee for an entire week.  _If Kramer could do it —_

Jerry decided he’d get a coffee for Elaine too, because she was meeting them there soon and she always took a long time to decide on her order. She knew what she wanted, and she got the same thing every time, but she always perused the menu like maybe she was going to try something new. And she wasn’t. She never did. Eventually she’d want a coffee and Jerry was going to make the whole situation easier for everyone involved by ordering it for her.

And of course, telling her about her particularly bad habit wasn’t an option; the chaos that would follow would be too outrageous to even fathom.

“If I were a lifeguard,” George continued, profoundly serious, “I would constantly be sharing the chair. And the beach lounging community would love me! They’d love me, Jerry! It would be groundbreaking.”

And George never got to find out if Jerry thought it was groundbreaking, because Elaine appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliding into the booth beside Jerry dressed in her work clothes.

“George, how could you possibly be a lifeguard if you’d drown the moment you stepped into the water?” Elaine was already laughing loudly at her own joke as she said this, very pleased with herself and very pleased with the reaction she got out of Jerry.

If you get a comedian to laugh that probably means you’re very funny too, doesn’t it? Elaine grinned. She really was very funny, wasn’t she?

“Lovely.” George said bitterly, almost like a pout, “That’s great Elaine.”

“Aw, George it was only a joke.” Elaine was still laughing as she said this, leaning across the table for effect, “I’m  _sure_ you can swim.”

“Yeah whatever.” George snapped and waved her off. He finally got a good look at her as he did this and did a double take.

Jerry did a double take too, his significantly more comedic.

There was something off about Elaine. She was dressed the same as usual, all professional and business like, except for one glaring inconsistency. She was wearing dark black sunglasses. The kind that secret agents or mobsters wore sometimes.

Jerry gaped. She looked more like an on-duty FBI agent than she did an assistant at an everyday New York publishing company.

Elaine ignored them, trying not to act conspicuous, and called the waitress over to order her food.

What was with the sunglasses? Bizarre.

Elaine  _hmm_ -d and  _uhh_ -d at the menu, all while Jerry made faces, before finally deciding on the big salad. Just like Jerry thought. He ordered her the coffee too, despite her protests. George ended up deciding on a piece of chocolate cheesecake, despite the look Jerry was giving him.

“You know Elaine, George was on the swim team in high school.” Jerry said passively, as the waitress left, causing George to cringe at the snipe out of nowhere, “His mom would come down and cheer him on. It was great for his self-esteem.”

And sure, Jerry was supposedly defending his friend’s ability to swim, but the high-school swim team was a particularly dark period in George’s life and he’d rather not have Jerry discussing it with people.  _Especially, not Elaine._

Elaine’s eyes lit up, under the big black sunglasses of course, delighted at this new information.

“Trust me,” George said bitterly, “That was the opposite of great for my self-esteem. I thank God every day that she didn’t bring my father with her. Can you even imagine? I shudder just thinking about it.”

Elaine grinned, but with the sunglasses hiding the smile lines in her eyes it was hard to tell if it was a happy grin or an evil twisted grin at his expense. Probably both, George thought passively.

“Aw, George.” Elaine teased, “Your mommy came down to support you? That’s  so adorable.”

George groaned. It was far from adorable. He was certainly going to give Jerry an earful later for bringing it to Elaine’s attention. 

“Don’t aw me, Elaine. It was certainly not cute or adorable. My mom? Please! And what’s with the glasses anyway? What’re you DB Cooper?”

Elaine gasped, “This isn’t about me, George!”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a part of the new FBI chic spring collection.” Jerry joked, grinning, and Elaine hit him in the arm. It was probably meant to be playful, but Elaine was a lot stronger than she realized and Jerry always ended up rubbing his arm in pain after one of her so-called  _playful_ hits.

“Ha. Ha.” Elaine drawled sarcastically, “Jerry, you’re hilarious.”

“I try.” Jerry shrugged innocently, looking far too pleased with himself.

Soon Elaine’s big salad came, followed by George’s slice of chocolate cheesecake, and shortly thereafter followed by Elaine’s mug of coffee. And of course! Jerry forgot to order another one for himself! Whatever, he’d just sip at Elaine’s when she wasn’t looking. 

The waitress disappeared back into the abyss of the bustling coffee shop. George watched her go. He’d never seen the inside of the diner’s kitchen. It always made him think of a Twilight Zone episode. Maybe there really was no kitchen. Maybe the waitresses were stepping into a black abyss and only returning to bring them food and drinks. He’d have to bring this theory to Jerry’s attention later.

He took a bite of his cheesecake. Elaine began her big salad. George glanced up at her and then back down at his cheesecake. Then up at her again. He made a face.

“There’s no sun in here. Take your sunglasses off.” George said, absentmindedly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because it was. Who wears sunglasses inside? It’s unnatural.

Elaine glared immediately.

“Excuse me?” She bit out, glowering. George could tell by her voice that he’d said something wrong, he was very good at telling when a woman thought that he’d said something wrong, but he wasn’t sure what.

Jerry quickly put up his hands in mock surrender. He wasn’t getting involved. No way. Nuh uh.

“What? What did I say?” George asked, incredulous.

“I’m not taking off my glasses George.” Elaine pressed, clearly agitated, “So just drop it, okay?”

“Okay. Jeez!” George said quickly, not enjoying being on the receiving end of one of her glares (even if it was through big dark sunglasses), “It was just a suggestion anyway.”

Jerry narrowed his eyes at Elaine’s dark black sunglasses. Maybe George could let this go, reluctantly, but he certainly couldn’t. She just looked  so _goofy_. He needed to know. Why would she wear sunglasses indoors? When there’s no sun?

It made him think about how secret service agents always wore dark sunglasses indoors. What was the deal with that anyway? Did they think that someone was going to try to assassinate the President with UV rays? Cue rimshot and audience laughter.

Jerry changed his mind. He was definitely getting involved.

“A  _valid_ suggestion.” Jerry added, but the suspicion in his voice was bordering on humorous, “In fact, if you don’t take the glasses off, I’m going to think you’re hiding something!”

Elaine rolled her eyes, “Oh, come on. Seriously Jerry?”

“Black sunglasses  are one of the most suspicious accessories.” George agrees.

“You’d know.” Elaine pointed a forkful of big lettuce towards George, accusingly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” George countered. Elaine shrugged. “Elaine what –”

Jerry took this chaotic moment as an opportunity to try to snatch the black sunglasses away from the brunette with the acid tongue. George sighed in defeat as his two friends started an all-out brawl opposite him in the booth.

It didn’t matter, because now he was too busy overthinking about Elaine’s comment to care much about the scene they were causing.

“Take off the glasses Elaine!”

“Hey, stop! Jerry what are you doing?!”

“What’re you hiding!”

“Jerry!”

“Take them off!”

_ Clank. _

The sunglasses clattered against the table in front of them, revealing that Elaine’s eye was crawling with black and blue. Jerry and George gawked. Elaine glowered back at them.

“There are you happy now? I don’t have the glasses on. The  awful suspicious glasses. And I have a black eye! Look everybody, I have a black eye.” Elaine declared to the restaurant. A few people glanced over, but mostly nobody cared. “Great. Now everybody knows.”

“Woah.” Jerry said, mouth hanging open in an almost comedic shock. “What’re you getting in fights now Lainey?”

Elaine shot him a dirty look, clearly not in the mood for his jokes.

“Oh my God.” George blinked, shocked, totally forgetting about the slice of cheesecake in front of him, Elaine’s comment, and the big red lifeguard chairs. What had him so upset about that again? 

“Are you okay?” Jerry asked, tentatively. He wasn’t the best comforter. Or was that a blanket? He wasn’t the best at comforting people. That’s it!

“More importantly,” George said slowly, with the same hesitance, “Whoever did that to you. You didn’t kill them, did you?”

“George—” Elaine started, exasperated. She scoffed, “Please.”

“There’s witnesses.” George glanced around the diner, nervous already, and suddenly it appeared much busier than ever, “Oh God, people see me with you!”

“I don’t know her!” George declared to the restaurant, standing up beside the booth and practically frantic, “I‘ve never seen this women in my entire life!”

A lot of people were looking at them now, more than before, and  _Oh God._ Everyone was going to see Elaine’s black eye and think she was some kind of lunatic street fighter! She hid her face with her hand, for good measure, clearly embarrassed.

George continued to cause a scene. Jerry thought about his lifeguard bit and his FBI agent bit and seemed particularly unaffected by the situation all together.

Elaine whacked at George’s arm, trying to get him to sit back down, “Sit down! Everyone’s looking at us.”

“Fine,” George agreed, with a huff of resignation, “But if the cops show up asking about this whole situation you’d better tell them I wasn’t involved. I’m not going to prison. Okay?”

“Fine.” Elaine said, waving him off, “God, just calm down. I didn’t kill him.”

“What?”

“Him?”

“ _You’re fighting men?_ ”

Jerry, who had previously been absorbing the entire situation with a sort of idle amusement, decided to get to the bottom of the entire  _Elaine Has a Black Eye_ debacle, “Okay, so what happened?”

Elaine sighed, exasperated, and then shot into her story, “Well I was walking down to the news stand with Kramer to get him a Penthouse Forum.”

“Why were you buying Kramer a Penthouse Forum?” George interrupted instantly, curious.

“It’s a long story, okay? Relax. So anyway, I was taking Kramer to the news stand and there was my ex-boyfriend. Just standing there like he didn’t dump me and leave me alone in the aquarium at ten at night. Do you remember that?”

Jerry nodded, “Tom Powers. You thought the sharks somehow could understand English and were internally laughing at your admittedly hilarious situation.”

Elaine ate another forkful of her big salad, “Exactly! I saw Tom and I didn’t want to talk to him, so I was hiding behind Kramer. And Kramer thought we were doing some sort of bit and so he started acting really strange. Like  really strange! Even for Kramer. He was moving his arms like this—” Elaine started exaggeratingly flinging her arms back and forth, like somebody jogging while standing still.

“I can picture this scenario very clearly.” Jerry said, drinking her coffee, “You’re an exceptionally good narrator, Elaine.”

“Why thank you. Anyway, Kramer was acting like a total whack job and Tom was looking straight at us. Then he called Kramer a freak! Can you believe that, Jerry? Our Kramer?”

“Oh, I can definitely believe that.”

“So, I stepped out from behind Kramer and I got up in this jerk’s face. I said, who do you think you are to call him a freak? Who  the hell  do you think you are? Because let me tell you this  freak  happens to be my  _husband_ and he’s a lot better than you ever were. Especially in bed!”

George’s jaw dropped, completely floored by her story, “Woah! You said that? What came over you?”

“What do you mean?” Elaine said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, “You’d let someone just insult one of us and get away with it?”

“I’d join in if it kept me from getting hit!” George said seriously.

Elaine gave him a look. Jerry nodded understandingly.

“Well, I’m not  _you_ George. And anyway, what gives Tom the right to call Kramer a freak. Only we can call Kramer a freak. And only when he’s acting freakish.”

“What happened next?” Jerry asked, still drinking her coffee.

“Well,” Elaine said, and she was already scoffing in disbelief, “My ex said the reason he wasn’t good in bed was because I was so bad at  _that_ and he couldn’t perform. Which, Jerry, you can attest is just not true.”

“I could swear in front of a judge if I had to.”

“Exactly!” Elaine said, because it was just so obvious and she absolutely knew it, “So, I told him that the reason he couldn’t perform had nothing to do with me. Maybe if he had something to work with down there, he’d actually be able to do something with  _it_.”

Elaine looked particularly pleased with her comeback and she was really glad she had the chance to tell somebody about it. She could be very clever when she wanted to be, she thought, probably cleverer than most people. Elaine smiled to herself at that thought and ate a forkful of her big tomatoes and big cucumbers.

“ _It_ being his—” Jerry began to clarify.

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, Elaine. You insulted his—” George continued, in awe.

“Yes!”

Jerry wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was drinking Elaine’s coffee now, “So then what? Who hit you?”

“He did! Can you believe it Jerry? What a psycho!” 

“Well, what did Kramer do?” Jerry said signaling the waitress over to refill the coffee. This was coffee number…..what now? He had no idea. “I assume he defended your honor.”

“He didn’t get the chance!” Elaine exclaimed as the waitress refilled the mug, “Tom just took off like a lunatic. Probably afraid that my ‘ _husband_ ’  was going to kill him. Kramer looks kind of scary when you don’t know him, doesn’t he? Anyway, can you believe Tom gave me a black eye?”

George was still looking at her suspiciously, “I’m still not convinced you didn’t kill him.”

“So, he just hit you?” Jerry asked, in disbelief, “Out of the blue?”

“Not out of the blue, Jerry.” Elaine said, pointing her fork at him now, “Were you not listening? I insulted his—”

“Right.” Jerry said, “But still, what kind of guy hits a woman. Especially over something like _that_? One time one of my girlfriends called me a hack no-good dead-beat comedian. You don’t see me punting her into the sun over it.”

George agreed immediately, “One time a woman told me I was the absolute worst sex she ever had. She told me she wished she could have killed herself before she ever met me so she wouldn’t have had to go through it. I didn’t even care. I dated her for three more weeks after that.”

“Exactly! It’s a good thing I didn’t continue to go out with him. He’s probably a wife beater type.” Elaine glanced at her watch. It was slightly past noon and she needed to get to work before she was late. And ugh, she was not prepared to hide her black eye from her co-workers. “Anyway, I’m wearing these glasses so nobody at work thinks I had a domestic or something. See you guys later.” 

Elaine left soon after that, getting in at least on more riff about George’s being on the swim team on her way out.  


Jerry and George continued their discussion about lifeguards after that, because Jerry didn’t have to do any shows until later that night and George didn’t have a job and didn’t have a girlfriend and so sitting in the diner with Jerry was the highlight of his day.   


  
  


Later that day George was in Jerry’s apartment making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. 

“Are we obligated to beat him up over this?” George asked out of the blue, dreading the whole situation. George  hated  fights. Back in highschool he hid in the band loft for hours just to avoid one particularly angry senior boy. “I feel like we’re obligated.”

George only met Tom once, but he was a big guy wasn’t he? _Oh God_ , what was the protocol in a situation like this? 

Jerry was sitting across the room on the couch, writing down his bit about FBI agents. 

_ What’s the deal with FBI agents anyway? Why are they always wearing those black sunglasses? Is it a fashion statement or is it mandatory?  _

“We’re definitely obligated.” Jerry replied very seriously, “A guy talks bad to your girl, you can get in their face and yell at them. Really let them have it, you know? You’re not however obligated to beat them up. There’s an optional beat up, but no obligation.”

“Right.” George said, hesitantly, listening to the gospel of societal code via Jerry. He put the top piece of bread on his sandwich and was very proud of himself. It was a perfect sandwich, George thought, he really did have a talent for making sandwiches. He should be on a cooking show. Who else makes a sandwich this perfect? George thinks no one.

“Right. But if said guy hits your girl, then you’re nine out of ten times required to beat the guy up.” Jerry continued, matter-of-fact, “It’s just the rules.”

“Nine out of ten?”

“If the guy happens to be bigger than you, you’re still supposed to hit him but if you want to pussy out then that’s allowed.”

George groaned and threw his hands up exasperated. He was not in the mood to get in a fight. Not now and not ever. Not even for Elaine.

“Well, Elaine’s not your girlfriend anymore!” George exclaimed, panicking, “And she’s certainly not mine so –“

“She’s our only female friend! It counts!” Jerry fired back, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t think she’d want us to.” George defends, sitting on the arm of Jerry’s couch now and eating his perfect sandwich. “Wouldn’t that be considered anti-feminist?”

“Elaine would be madder if we didn’t. You know how feminists get mad when you hold the door open for them, but they’re even madder when you don’t? That’s what’s happening here.”

“Fine! Then we’ll threaten him. But no fight!”

”No fight!” Jerry agreed, “Definitely no fight.”   


“Okay, good.” 

George really dreaded this. He _really really dreaded this._ But if Jerry wanted to go threaten some big tough guy then he supposed he would go do it too. That’s what friends do right?

“Want a bite of my sandwich?” 

“No. What’s your problem?” 

“Hey! It’s a perfect sandwich Jerry. I know you want to try it!” 

“I definitely don’t.” 

  
  


“Aw, George! What happened to you?” Elaine asked the next day. They were sitting back in the diner, this time waiting for Kramer to get back from his water aerobics class. _And oh God? What was Kramer doing_ _ that  for?_

George was pouting, now sporting a black eye of his own. They were in the booth by the window this time and they all waited in a brief awkward silence as the waitress dropped off their food.

“Your ex-boyfriend that’s what!” George exclaimed, as soon as the waitress was out of ear shot, “He punched me!”

“Tom?” Elaine asked, caught off guard, shaking out a salt shaker on the table in front of her. She was clearly not invested in  _George Has a Black Eye Gate_. 

“Why did he do that?” She wondered, still messing with the salt shaker. 

“Ask Jerry!” George exclaimed, pointing at Jerry accusingly. “He’s the one who got me into this mess!”

“What? Don’t try to involve me in this!” Jerry defended. 

“Oh you’re involved all right. He was aiming for Jerry, you know! He just jumped out of the way and that bastard Tom Powers hit me right in the face!”   


“What? What are you talking about?” Elaine said, “Why the hell were you talking to him?” 

“We were defending your honor!”

“What makes you think I’d want that?” Elaine groans, dropping her head into her hands. This whole situation was getting _so_ messy.

“Jerry said –” George began.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about Elaine.” Jerry insisted.

“—Jerry said it was an obligation.”

Elaine groans loudly again, head still in her hands. Jerry and George really had zero brain cells between the two of them, she thought.  


”Thanks a lot Curly and Mo.” Elaine said, “Real helpful.”

Suddenly Kramer barreled into Monk’s diner, tripping over his feet and clearly dazed, sporting a black eye of his own. 

“Kramer? What happened?”

“What’s wrong with Kramer?”

“I was defending your honor Elaine. I really let him have it!” Kramer announced, looking up around his head almost as if he was staring at little cartoon birds that nobody else could see. “Tom! At water aerobics! He  clocked me!”

George was still annoyed and still pouting, but now he was intrigued as well, ”What does this guy just go around punching people? Randomly? Out of all the guys in New York and Elaine had to date Mike Tyson.”

“Hey,” Jerry said, “Now when people ask why you all have black eyes you can say you’re all in a secret unground fight club together.”

”Shut up.” George pouted and huffed out of the diner.  


He’d be back again the next day anyway, sitting across from Jerry and talking about something trivial like lifeguards. And the next day too. Because these are some of his only good memories anyway. 


End file.
